Quotes About Madness

Lei è ovviamente pazza di te. E tu sei pazzo e basta, perciò siete una coppia perfetta.

There were no mad flashings of the eye, no lunatic grimace passed over his face. He was not out of his mind, which was so clear and buoyant that he asked himself why he wanted to do it at all. And he said to himself that he wanted to do it because he was evil, thoroughly evil. And he smiled as he said it and was content. He looked quite innocent, like any happy person.

But the Can Man is still touched in the head, and on nights when the world closes in on him, he still gets down on his hands and knees and howls at the moon.

It's corny, but I think poems are echoes of the voices in your head and from your past. Your sisters, your father, your ancestors taking to you and through you. Some of it is primal, some of it is hallucinatory bullshit. That madness those boys rapping ain't nothing but urban folklore. They retelling stories passed down from chicken coop to apartment stoop to Ford coupe. Hear that rhyme, boy. Shit, I could get down and rap if I had to. MC Big Mama Osteoporosis in the house.

I'd rather kiss a mad cow on the muzzle than a smoker on the mouth.

out of a shardstrewn madness I stand up and look upon my hand, how it draws the one and only circle

We're gonna make it all the way to the light, but I know i'll go crazy if I don't go crazy tonight

And to read is to understand, to question, to know, to forget, to erase, to deface, to repeat--that is to say, the endless prosopopoeia by which the dead are made to have a face and a voice which tells the allegory of their demise and allows us to apostrophize them in our turn. No degree of knowledge can ever stop this madness, for it is the madness of words.

So many bright futures consigned to the ashes of the past.So many dreams lost in the madness that had engulfed us.Except for a few widely scattered shouts of joy,the survivors of the abyss sat hollow-eyed and silent, trying to comprehend a world without war.

Does madness ever recede? Can it get better on its own, without therapeutic intervention?

Do you have any idea how mad you sound?' 'Indeed I do. I have in moments of doubt considered the question of my sanity.' (...) 'And?' 'Then I consider what a piece of work is man. How defective in reason, how mean his facilities, how ugly in form and movement, in action how like a devil, in apprehension how like a cow. The beauty of the world? The paragon of animals? To me the quintessence of dust.

Wetiko psychosis is at the very root of humanity's inhumanity to itself in all its various forms. As a species, we need to step into and participate in our own spiritual and psychological evolution, which means that we must focus our attention on and contemplate this most important topic before this virulent madness destroys us.

Grief is madness-ask anyone who's been there. They will tell you it abates with time, but that's a lie. What drowns you in the first year is a force of solitude and helplessness exactly equal in intensity to the love you had for the one who's gone. Equally passionate, equally intimate. The spaces between the the stabs of pain grow longer after a while, but they're empty spaces. The chich?(c)s of condolence get you back to the office.

Si vivre dans les villes est une folie, au moins New York est-il une folie qui en vaut la peine.

He regarded himself as an accomplished writer — a clear sign of madness in anyone.

A man who is 'of sound mind' is one who keeps the inner madman under lock and key.

A man who is of 'sound mind' is one who keeps his inner madman under lock and key.

Ironic," Ricardo said. "That you must become a monster to keep from going mad.

Flying demanded more courage and faith than I actually possessed, and it wanted my best, my whole self. I would have to work very hard to be any good at it at all, and be more than a little mad to be great, to give my life over to it. But that's just what I meant to do.

Confusion is not a bad thing. It's not doubt that makes a man mad. It's certainty.

Alexander smoked and watched her from his tree stump bench. What are you doing? she would ask him. Nothing, he would reply. Nothing but growing my pain into madness.

What looks like crazy on an ordinary day, looks a lot like love when you catch it in the moonlight.

Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown.

Cuando el amor no es locura,no es amor.